The Ghost Who Walks

Supermodel and wife of the White Stripes' Jack White aims to transcend those two facts on her debut LP of murder ballads and country-rock.

Karen Elson is in a tough spot. Not your average singer-songwriter, she is both supermodel and wife to Jack White of the White Stripes, Dead Weather, and Raconteurs. As the story goes, Elson, who's written and performed for several years with the Citizens Band cabaret troupe in New York, had written a heap of songs on her own. White coaxed out a few, enjoyed what was probably his eighth or ninth eureka moment that day, and rounded up a war party to take into his Third Man studio in Nashville. He was going to help her record her debut, The Ghost Who Walks, and he hooked it up pretty nicely. The list of players is as long and impressive (see: Jackson Smith, son of Patti/husband to Meg White/"brother-in-law" to Elson lends his guitar talents) as the level of scrutiny attached is intense. No matter which angle you take, it's safe to say Karen Elson has one very enormous shadow to escape. And to do that, the songs here would need to be great rather than good.

They are merely the latter. White sat behind the drumkit here (his fills in "Garden" are one of a few arresting moments to be found) as well as took production reins, his devotion to all things analog a superb match for realizing the American roots music Elson's taken a shine to. While that setup makes it even more difficult to separate her from her bio, White has reeled out another warm recording you can almost hold. That's audible from the first organ notes and strums (Elson's) of the titular opener, a murder ballad. It's not an especially remarkable song, but it's sharply arranged and beautifully played. The same can be said for the antebellum twirl of "Cruel Summer" or country march of "The Birds They Circle" or actually, the album from head down to its boots: each composition is fleshed out as well as it can be, the end result still a kind of Appalachian wallpaper music that after further inspection and subsequent listens, leaves the record sounding much more flims [#script:http://pitchfork.com/media/backend/js/tiny_mce/themes/advanced/langs/en.js]|||||| y than urgent. What impression it leaves doesn't last.

But that's not to say there aren't some genuinely gorgeous stretches. "Lunasa" is fiddle-fortified duet penned by Rac [#script:http://pitchfork.com/media/backend/js/tiny_mce/themes/advanced/langs/en.js]|||||| helle Garniez [#script:http://pitchfork.com/media/backend/js/tiny_mce/themes/advanced/langs/en.js]|||||| , another Citizens Band member who provides organ and accordion flourishes as well as songwriting contributions elsewhere on the record. "A Thief at My Door" breaks down the door at its half-way mark, a slow-burner turned lion that really captures Elson's vocal cords in fine form. It's the launch of a very strong closing trio, the closing wails of "Mouths to Feed" more chilling than any other corner of the album. Elson's voice doesn't boast the same force as a Neko Case or (onetime White muse) Loretta Lynn, but it's not wimpy either. It communicates through and through that she really loves singing these songs. Whether she's capable of making them her own isn't something The Ghost Who Walks can tell us.